Smiling
by macawtopia
Summary: "Why are you always smiling, Peeta?" "Why shouldn't I be smiling?" I can think of about a hundred reasons why. For starters we're in the middle of the Hunger Games. Moreover, Peeta is slowly dying of blood poisoning. And he's still beaming at me. Twoshot
1. Smiling

Hey guys! This is just a short story that popped into my head after I watched the film. It takes place during the days that Katniss and Peeta spend in the cave, and I decided to post it because Peeta was always my favourite character in the books and I wanted to give him a little chance to just be himself.

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><p>When I come back from that evening's hunt, Peeta is leaning against a boulder in the corner of the cave and gingerly attempting to put some weight on his injured leg, with little success. His face, already filthy with remnants of paint and flushed dark from the fever, is fixed in a horrible grimace that makes me want to wince in sympathy.<p>

I quickly put down my bow and game to come over and help him out, and the sound makes Peeta look up. For a moment, he looks relieved that I am alright, and then as I start to help him back into a seated position, he flashes me one of his dazzling smiles.

Of course, this is nothing new. Whenever I re-enter the cave after having left, or even if I have just been pre-occupied for a while and haven't been paying Peeta much attention, the second I'm back with him he always smiles at me. And it's not a mushy, adoring, sponsor winning smile either… it's as if he's genuinely in a good mood, even enjoying himself.

Usually, I just nod at him, to acknowledge that fact that I've seen the smile and he can stop, but it has been going on for so long I can't force myself to take it any longer. It's unhinging the way he can sometimes act as though we're on some kind of holiday, just vacationing together in a cave for kicks. How can he even pretend when so much is at stake? And if he's just doing it for the cameras… then how can he live with himself? After all, wasn't he the one who didn't want to lose who he was for the games? It's hard for me to imagine that the boy who was so bent on preserving his essence could fake such realistic smiles just for the people who are cheering to watch him either kill someone or die himself.

So, forgetting that the audience and sponsors are listening to me for just a moment, I ask, "Why do you _do_ that, Peeta? What's the point?"

He looks somewhat taken aback at my irritated tone, "Well… I guess I just figured that if I didn't start to, you know, rehabilitate my leg, it would –"

I frown as I sit next to him, untying what's left of the braid I fixed in the morning and preparing to redo it, "No, not that. Why did you smile?"

At this, Peeta laughs at me, saying, "I'm sorry Katniss: I didn't realize that it bothered you. Won't happen again."

Somehow, his levity irritates me even more, "Peeta, I'm serious. Why are you _always_ smiling?" My voice is laced with more menace than I had intended, but this doesn't seem to bother him. He merely shrugs at me, "Why shouldn't I be?"

I can think of about a hundred reasons why, but before I can say so, Peeta continues talking, "What would my no longer smiling achieve, Katniss?"

"You'd stop driving me insane, for one thing." I grumble, but only half-heartedly because I am starting to see Peeta's point.

He realizes this, perceptive scamp that he is, and grins at me yet again, "That's a lie and you know it. And for the record, I smile when I see you coming because I'm glad to see you, plain and simple. Because I'm glad to not be alone anymore, and because I can hardly believe that it really is _you_ here with me, taking care of me."

While he says this his grin fades into something more serious and his eyes lock onto mine. Having his eyes, with their completely honest and loving expression, burn into my own feels like looking right at the sun. It soon becomes too much for me, and I am about to break the eye contact when Peeta takes my hand:

"Also Katniss… when I smile at you, you sometimes look just a _little_ bit less miserable and desperate. Heck, once you almost smiled back. And if there's one person I know who really should smile a lot more often, it's you."

For just a split second, I'm annoyed again. I think: sure, it's all very well for him to say that I should smile more often while he's safe and sound in this cave and I'm out there risking my neck hunting, foraging, fighting and hiding… but this thought quickly subsides and is replaced by another. Namely, that I was wrong: Peeta's _not_ just smiling for the cameras and the sponsors. Despite the extreme pain he's constantly in and the hopelessness of his situation, he's still smiling that beautiful, heartwarming smile of his because he wants to cheer _me_ up.

In other words, the Capitol hasn't broken or changed him, not by a long shot. And suddenly, I know that he was never in any real danger of becoming just another piece in their Hunger Games.

So, giving Peeta's hand a little squeeze, I smile back at him.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Leave a review, if you've got a moment, and remember to smile at someone today =]<p> 


	2. Still Smiling

It is about five in the morning and the sun is likely already out, but thick fog and heavy clouds are keeping all light from entering through my bedroom window. The darkness, coupled with the comforting arm around me, makes me reluctant to get out of bed, so instead I groggily roll over to face the person beside me.

I expect to see Peeta fast asleep - most likely scrunching up his face because of another nightmare - so I am startled when I see that he is already awake and looking at me with a curious expression. He looks otherworldly in the minimal grey light, his pale skin and the highlights of his hair reflecting it and his wide blue eyes iridescent, like a wild animal. He's almost dizzying to look at and I get the uncomfortable feeling that I'm still in a dream. And that's when he smiles at me.

Sure, this is not the first time he's smiled at me since highjacking, but it usually takes him some time in the mornings to remember that I'm friend, not foe. Moreover, his smiles are always uncertain, tentative. Though he tries, I can always see the effort that they cost him. But I know that this smile is real.

He reaches out to brush a strand of hair off my forehead, whispering, "Katniss…" A shiver runs up my spine: he sounds so different than what I'm used to, so _unguarded_.

"Am I dreaming?"

I speak without thinking, and don't realize how stupid my words are until they are hanging in the air. Peeta obviously thinks that they are too dumb too, because he laughs at me, wrinkling his nose, "What?"

"Why are you smiling?" I blurt, unable to think of anything else to say. I immediately regret my words, realizing that Peeta's heard them before, but it's too late. I see a frown of recognition cross his features and know that he remembers too.

I brace myself for his reaction, hoping with all of my heart that the Capitol hasn't tampered with this one happy memory we shared, but even as I tense my muscles to leap out of his reach if necessary, I can't stop myself from replaying it in my mind. It comes in flashes: Peeta's dazzling smile shining through the grime of the cave, my irritation with his unstoppable and incomprehensible joy at seeing me, and an overlying feeling of lightheartedness despite everything. The sort of feeling that only Peeta was capable of giving me.

He closes his eyes, clutching his face in his hands. I prepare for the worst, but when he looks up at me and speaks, it is softly, with a hint of a smile teasing his lips, "I'm sorry. I didn't know it bothered you…"

I inhale sharply, unable to believe my ears. "What?"

"I said, I'm sorry I smiled, I didn't realize that it bothered you."

It takes every ounce of self control I've got not to pounce Peeta and hold him so tightly that even he couldn't pull me off. My heart starts racing, and I can't keep myself from beaming like an idiot. Then Peeta lifts my chin with a finger, so I'm looking right into his eyes again. "You remember that?" I ask, unable to shake the feeling that I really am still dreaming.

At this he grins at me, looking just as relieved and elated as I feel, "Yeah, I _do_. But I just can't believe that that conversation about smiling actually happened… I didn't think that it was a real memory."

"Why not?"

"No reason, it's just… you seemed too _open_ in it. You know, too unwary and honest. It didn't really fit with all of the other memories I had of you."

I have to admit that his words sting, "Really?"

He shrugs, "Really. Besides, I couldn't understand my own feelings in that memory… why I was so anxious for you to be happy when you so obviously didn't give a damn about me."

Now he's frowning and I realize that there is nothing in the world I wouldn't give to have my old, smiling and unconditionally loving Peeta back. I miss him so much and so constantly it's like a recurring migraine.

Suddenly desperate, I burst out, "But I smiled back!"

Peeta fixes me with a long stare, "You smiled back because you found my feelings for you hilarious. Real or not real."

"Not real!" I practically scream at him, "I did it because I was glad you were with me, plain and simple."

"I don't believe you, I can't." He replies quietly, shifting to a seated position and hugging his knees to his chest, "I know that you didn't love me, Katniss."

My words come out without my thinking them through, "Not real."

"You're a liar."

"I'm not a liar!" I shout, half to convince myself, "I loved you, but in a different way."

"Of course you did."

"I did! I just didn't realize how much I needed you, so I took you for granted until – "

"Until I stopped worshipping you."

"Well… yeah." Telling the truth makes me sound horrible, but I _have_ to prove that I'm not a liar.

"Must have been nice for you…" Peeta says after a long pause, his voice laced with bitterness, "Having someone who was willing to do anything for you without having to bother returning the favour. I guess that's something that anyone would miss. Heck, I almost wish_ I_ had someone like that."

"You _do_!"

It's not until I say this that I realize it's true. I would do anything for Peeta, and not just because I owe him for more than I can ever repay. It's because when he's hurt and confused I feel the same way, and because his happiness matters more to me than my own. It's because he's all I've got left.

Peeta just looks at me after this, his expression unreadable. I glare back, daring him to challenge my claim. Then, without warning, his expression turns to bewilderment, "Katniss… you actually mean that, don't you?"

I sigh, allowing my features to relax, "Real."

"In that case… I just can't figure you out."

"I'm not that complicated." I confess. Now that I've started being honest with myself, I might as well continue: "I'm just very selfish. I would do anything for you because I know that _I'm_ not happy unless you are too." I shoot Peeta a glance, to see if what I said goes down well, but he only rolls his eyes.

"Now that I believe." He says, still not smiling, "All of my memories support you being selfish."

I'm desperate again, and realize that I need to salvage this situation fast, "That's true, but Peeta... I meant the other part of what I said too. I… I wouldn't be able to go on if you left."

There is a long, horrible pause. Then Peeta whispers: "I know. I believe you. But... you've _got_ to try and put yourself in my place. Sometimes, I love you so much that I just want to _give in_ and kiss you until you can't breathe... and other times I can't stand the sight of you. And the two extremes conflict and confuse me so much that most of the time I try not to think of you at all, which is even worse."

Peeta sighs, looking utterly miserable. His misery is catching and I feel the lump in my throat that precedes tears. I don't know if I can resign myself to him never coming back.

But then I decide that I _won't_ allow myself to cry. Instead, I have an idea. Turning to Peeta, I force my reluctant features into a smile. He remains silent, but I resist the tears and continue grinning at him. Finally, looking slightly frightened, he says, "What the _hell_?"

I am taken aback, so he elaborates, "Katniss, _why_ are you baring your teeth at me? It's as scary as – wait… " Realization crosses his features and erases the despair, "Is that… supposed to be a smile?"

Offended, I scowl at him, "Obviously. What _else_ could it be?"

Peeta lets out a little snort of laughter at my expense, "A _deranged_ hyena, that's what."

_What?_

"Well, I'm_ sorry_ that I don't have your wonderful and _ever so_ useful ability to smile on cue." I growl at him, "We can't all be so pretty and _god damn_ likable you know."

I am about to continue grumbling when I see a light of understanding in his blue eyes, "Katniss, wait… _Why_ were you smiling?"

"I was smiling," I begin, trying to hold in my irritation, "Because a wise boy once told me that I need to smile more often."

"Which is true." He breaks in with another little laugh.

"Which is true." I agree, the last of my anger evaporating, "But with all due respect, Peeta, smiling a bit more often wouldn't hurt you any either." There. I said it.

"Is that so?"

"Definitely," I confirm, adding, "It improves your looks a lot."

He can't stop himself from grinning at me and I am elated. I grab hold of his hand because I hope that it will somehow help me to hold onto this one moment when we are both completely free.

"You think that I'm terribly handsome when I smile, Real or Not Real." Peeta questions suddenly, with a teasing and familiar sparkle in his eyes.

"Real." I reply, then I make a face at him,"Unfortunately…"

"You care about me a lot," Peeta asks in a much softer voice, "Real or not Real."

I look out of the window to where a rising sun is peaking through the clouds "Real."

Peeta turns to face the sunrise as well, almost certainly admiring the delicate blend of pinks and oranges that now grace the sky. "You love me," he finally says, his voice just above a whisper, "Real or Not Real."

"Real."

And then, when he smiles this absolutely breathtaking smile at me, I realize… even after all of that torture the Capitol _still_ hasn't broken him, not by a long shot. Peeta, _my_ Peeta, is still fighting and smiling for me.

So, giving Peeta's hand a little squeeze, I smile back at him.

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><p>I know I said that this was a oneshot, but I couldn't resist =D<p>

Hope you enjoyed it!


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